


The Many Faces of Cecil Baldwin

by Seiya234



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-22
Updated: 2014-02-24
Packaged: 2017-12-20 23:21:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 5,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/893094
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Seiya234/pseuds/Seiya234
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Or, ALL THE HEADCANONS ARE CANON!</p><p>Or, I have been so inspired by all the interpretations of Cecil I've been seeing on tumblr that I'm going to write all the ficlets about all the Cecils.</p><p>Or, Cecil is neither tall nor short, neither fat nor thin, and has an amazing voice. Everything else varies from there.</p><p>Or, send me your headcanons and I'll write them up!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Base

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also, if you have a headcanon Cecil you'd like to see be written about, drop me a message or leave a comment!

Cecil is neither too tall nor too short.

He is neither thin nor fat.

He has eyes. 

He has a smile that may or may not be a smile. 

He tends towards sweater vests and ties and needs glasses (most always rectangle shaped and thick rimmed).

And of course, his voice.

His voice always stays the same, soothing dulcet tones full of expression even without a face to go with the voice.

Everything else however, is subject to change.


	2. Third Eye

There is a third eye on Cecil's forehead.

It is a pale blue to Cecil's warm brown eyes, and roundish compared to his other two almond shaped eyes.  Carlos never thought he would see a pair of glasses adapted for people with three eyes, but damn if Cecil's glasses didn't have a third lens propped up on the other two like a pyramid.

It also sees everything in shades of red only.

A month after Carlos and Cecil started dating[1], when they were lying on Carlos' couch together, Carlos propped himself up on his elbow to look at Cecil.

"Do..do you think I could ask some questions? About the...um...." Carlos waved his hand around the general area of his forehead.

Cecil looked at Carlos puzzled for a minute, though half of that puzzlement was brought on by his awe at Carlos, but he eventually figured it out.

"Oh! Yes, of course darling Carlos. I forget what you told me, that where you come from extra appendages and organs are not a common occurence."

Cecil's stomach rumbled. "Though perhaps we can save the science until after dinner?" He looked down and blushed. "And, maybe, other things?"

The blue eye in Cecil's forehead saw that Carlos had gone an even more intense red, so Cecil took that as a yes.

  


* * *

[1] Carlos had gotten over the third eye the year before, because once you ran into one of the Erikas down at the Ralph's, a third eye on a radio dj's head paled in comparison. Not to mention, general day to day life in Night Vale.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because if the other two eyes need glasses, surely the third one would as well, yes?


	3. Third Eye II

His third eye had gotten him in trouble a lot over the years, Cecil ruefully thought to himself once.

 

He had tried growing out his hair long enough to completely cover the eye peeking out of his forehead, once. But not only did his eye keep on with its usual shenanigans, he ended up with hair in his eyes all of the time

.

In the end he gave up and just kept his afro at his usual length after that. 

 

Cecil himself was, excepting occasions of Steve Carlsburg (the spoil sport), rather calm tempered and mild mannered.

 

His third eye, on the other hand, was not.

 

In school, Cecil constantly would get in trouble for rolling the eye in his forehead, even though he tried to explain multiple times that it was his eye that was ‘having attitude’, not him. It would glow red at the mention of Steve Carlsburg, or the Apache Tracker (that racist asshole-seriously, who in town even sold that stupid fake headdress to him, let alone that he wore it), or anyone or anything that annoyed it.

 

Including Station Management and City Council, much to Cecil’s dismay.

 

Even if his third eye (which he sometimes called Bob in order to save time) wasn’t actively mad and glowing red, it would throw massive shade at everyone and everything around Cecil. Though people who were on the recieving end of said side eye had to admit that was the most impressive shade they had ever seen.

 

While Bob wasn’t the main reason Cecil got into radio, the fact that radio let him divorce himself and his voice from the eye on his forehead did help quite a bit.

 

There was only one person that Bob didn’t glare, side eye, throw shade, glow, or otherwise act malevolent towards, and that was Carlos.

 

Beautiful, wonderful Carlos, on which both Cecil and his third eye could agree on.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was inspired by this post from tumblrite wendigoprey.
> 
> "black cecil with an afro side eyeing everyone with his third eye"


	4. Shadow

There was something off about Cecil that Carlos wasn’t able to put his hand on the first few times he met him.

 

It wasn’t his appearance; though considering that they lived in the desert it amazed Carlos that the man had no problem always wearing a collared shirt and sweater vest. No, Cecil was…well, rather cute, to be honest. He was Korean, with salt and pepper hair, bright brown eyes, and was practically a walking freckle, so many of them covered his skin. And of course, that excellent voice of his.

 

It wasn’t until three or four months after Carlos had gotten into town that he figured out what it was: Cecil didn’t always have a shadow.

 

\-------------

 

Cecil knew that his shadow had a habit of detaching itself from him and going off. Even he could tell when he didn’t have a shadow.

 

That being said, it wasn’t something that he actively controlled. His shadow had a mind of its own, and it did what it wanted.

 

Sometimes that meant staying with him like a shadow should.

 

Sometimes that meant leaving while he was in the booth and rejoining him during his show, and Cecil would know when his shadow had rejoined him what his shadow had seen on its travails.

 

(it was one of the many ways Cecil was able to bring Night Vale important, up to date news)

 

And more and more often, his shadow would go and peek and see what Carlos was doing.

 

Beautiful, wonderful Carlos.

 

Cecil tried to tell his shadow that he had to respect Carlos’ privacy but as always, his shadow didn’t listen.

 

(honestly, he didn’t even know if his shadow registered what Cecil told him or said)

 

(or that it even knew that it was a part of Cecil at all)

 

\--------

Carlos would occasionally notice an extra shadow peeking from his chair, the lamp on his lab desk, or his car in the lot before heading home.

 

But it wasn’t until he started going out with Cecil that he made the connection.  

 


	5. Tattooed

Carlos had seen, before they started dating, that Cecil had tattoos.

But they were hidden, under long shirt sleeves, and barely peeking out of his shirt collar on to his neck.

So it was a bit of a shock when Cecil showed him them for the first time. Partially because  
Carlos didn’t have Cecil pegged as the kind of man who would have tattoos covering his arms, chest, and neck.

But mostly because they moved.

Carlos, to his credit, was able to keep his reaction to a slight jump, thanks to a year of living in Night Vale.

“When did you get all of this done?” he asked.

Cecil looked up from Carlos’ hand on his arm, pale grey eyes under a ginger mop of hair. “These? I’ve always had them.”

Carlos almost said something, but saw the earnest look on Cecil’s face, and knew that not only was Cecil telling the truth, nothing he could say about it would add anything to the conversation.

He instead settled for looking at the living art on Cecil. There were snakes and desert flowers, cactuses and eyes, a radio tower and a map of Night Vale, and

“Is that an octopus?”

Carlos had nothing against octopi: they really are rather amazing creatures. But it did clash with the obvious desert/eldrich horrors from beyond our knowing theme that Cecil had going on.

Cecil blushed bright cherry red. “Um, well, remember when you told me you were from Corpus Christi? And I asked where that was, and you said it was by the ocean, and, um, well, I just really like you a lot and this showed up the next day and um-”

Cecil was interrupted by Carlos leaning in to kiss him, which led, eventually, to other things.

And all through the night, a snake or octopus would wind its way onto Carlos’ skin.


	6. Heterochromia

He was, to be honest, a little creeped out to hear someone he had barely met at a town meeting declare his love for him on the radio.

 

Because honestly. They had interacted, if you could call it that, for thirty seconds.

 

Still, the man-Cecil was it?-had absolutely striking eyes. One was normal, albeit a very lovely hazel, brown and yellow and green all blended together. 

 

But the other one….his left eye was blue. Not just blue, but pale blue going onto white… In any other place, Carlos would think it was a contact lens.

 

Here in Night Vale, even though he had only been in town a few days, Carlos had the feeling that that was not the case.

 

=====

The hazel eye saw what was there.

 

The blue eye saw the truth.

 

Of course, between the two things got a bit muddled. 

 

For example, Carlos, dear sweet wonderful Carlos, was not actually literally perfect. 

That was hazel eye talk right there.

 

But he was pretty awesome, there was no denying, the blue eye would put in.

 

On a more practical level, his blue eye let him report on the Shape in Grove Park or the various things that City Council quickly declared Not True or Not There or Stop Talking About the Darn Dog Park.

 

His hazel eye threw in enough disavowal on his part to keep him alive.

 

This combination of truth and lies, of valuable information reported in a calm, soothing voice, the fact that everyone in town (er, except Steve Carlsburg) loved him…this kept Cecil alive.

 

Of course, Cecil was completely unaware that one eye saw complete, total, unyielding truth, and the other eye was a normal eye.

 

(and there’s nothing wrong with that, thank you very much)

—-

He wouldn’t be aware of it until Carlos asked how on earth he knew so much of what happened in Night Vale if he was always in the booth, and Cecil thought about it a bit.

 

(also, Carlos was the one who mentioned that Cecil looked a bit like the actor Danny Pudi, but with different colored eyes. And a tail)

 

(Carlos most definitely did NOT notice the tail the first time he saw Cecil)

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many thanks to tumblrite otherbuttons, who wrote the headcanon-"Cecil can always see the truth, no matter how out of reach it may be. This would be more helpful if Cecil knew he could do this." that inspired this.
> 
> Also, thanks to everyone who fancast Cecil as Danny Pudi because OMFG PERF SO PERF


	7. Beard

Cecil was surprisingly human looking.

Carlos said surprisingly, considering within his first few days in town he encountered a woman covered in eyes, the Thompson twins, who were not only conjoined but also had rams horns on their heads, and ran into an angel.

Like, a literal fucking angel.

Angels, Carlos discovered, were most definitely NOT the twee little cherubs he vaguely remembered learning about on Sundays long past. These angels were absolutely terrifying.

Even if Old Woman Josie had stuffed them in sweaters with cats on them, though how she got the sweaters on them with the wings and the limbs and the-

Nope. Stopping that train of thought right there.

But yes, Cecil. Cecil was, as far as Carlos could tell after almost a year of living here, most likely fully human.

He was rather clean cut in appearance, with close shorn dark hair, green eyes, and big square glasses. He always wore sweater vests and ties, and was perpetually tanned from the desert sun.

(though hysterically, he had tan lines from his glasses. Carlos had to admit that that was kind of cute).

No, the only odd thing about Cecil was that amidst all of this, he had a three foot beard.

A three foot beard that he braided every day. With a ribbon woven in that coordinated with the color of his outfit.

Sometimes Cecil would tuck it into his vest if he needed it out of the way which looked beyond odd.

Other times, when he saw Cecil outside of the booth running errands, there would be little bells braided in, presumably taken out during broadcast of course.

———

When they started dating, Carlos finally got to ask Cecil about his beard.

"It’s really very long. Like, the longest I’ve ever seen."

Cecil beamed. “Why thank you! You know, I always get compliments on it but it just means so much more coming from you!"

"So, er….why do you keep your beard that long?"

Carlos was expecting to hear any amount of things, like that it repelled giant hawks, or that the City Council required it of all people with the last name Baldwin, or that it kept Station Management at bay.

So he was more than a little surprised when Cecil just shrugged and said, “I just like it this way."


	8. Paralysed

Cecil was paralyzed from the waist down.

Amazingly, this was not due to the usual Night Valiian shenanigans, like the Hooded Figures opening you up in the night to see how humans worked, or being hit by a racecar float doing 80 miles per hour in the Biannual Surprise Invisible Drag Race Parade, or trying to cross at one of the unmarked crosswalks.

No, as Cecil told him over milkshakes one day, "I was born like this."

Though of course, it wouldn't be Night Vale if it wasn't slightly weird, so further questioning determined that Cecil did not have cerbral palsy, or spina bifidia, or anything else that Carlos could think of off the top of his head that would result with someone being born paralysed.

  
In the end though, it really didn't matter. Cecil got around quite fine, thank you very much. 

  
It probably helped that two tentacles, black as the ebon night, would emerge from his back to wheel his chair whenever he needed to move.

 

Carlos was still trying to get the guts to ask him about those. 


	9. Created

Station Management created Cecil.

They made him with the tools he would need to accurately report the news: an extra eye that could see the town’s events and report on them in real time, the power of his voice, to influence the will of the town to do the bidding of the Management and the City Council.

And at first he worked perfectly, unaware of his birth, reading the news and instructing the town.

They didn’t plan on him developing a personality, having free will.

They didn’t plan on him having a heart, a soul.

They also didn’t realize, until they tried to destroy him for his various disobediences, that they made him too well.

Night Vale loved him. Not just the people of the town, but the actual town itself.

(an entity which was content to slumber usually, and let the City Council and Station Management get on with things)

(after the dust up with Cecil, It woke. And It was not pleased)

(there were a few less members of City Council the next day)

He was a part of the town now, an essential part of its existence. If Cecil was taken out of the equation, things would cease to run, to make sense , to be bearable.

And with the powers they imbued into him, they had made him as deathless as themselves.

Not that Cecil knew any of this, which was the only saving grace of this whole mess.

Station Management, after they were sure the town had gone back to sleep, looked at each other as a collective whole, then went to drown their sorrows in cow’s blood from John Peter’s (you know, the farmer) place.

They’d figure out what to do the next day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many thanks to Cosmiccappucino, whose post below provided the prompt/inspiration for this!
> 
> http://cosmiccappuccino.tumblr.com/post/57547489854/what-if-station-management-created-cecil-how


	10. Blank

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From a comment request! (btw, omg thank you!)
> 
> "Can you do the tentacles next? Oh, and don't forget white eyes, black eyes and purple eyes! And the changing face idea!"
> 
> I did the best I could with what my muse gave me. :)
> 
> Also, maybe I genderbent it a bit. :)

Cecilia had white eyes.

As an added bonus, they glowed a light purple.

(luckily, when Carla first met Cecilia, she had already spent 48 hours in Night Vale, so she was at the point where she was just going "fuck it" and buying another bottle of whiskey)

Carla wasn't sure how that grabbed her attention more than the four to eight tentacles Cecilia also had (they constantly kept shifting and moving so much that even she couldn't keep an accurate count of them), but they did.

It was probably because they were pitch white, with no sign of iris or cornea or even veins. Just pure whiteness, like marble.

It would have been a little more unnerving if it weren't for the fact that despite that they still somehow showed life, personality

(and damn if Carla knew how)

(to be fair though, she was not an optometrist)

(actually, she was only a geologist. But the residents of Night Vale didn't make such distinctions between the various fields of science. If you were versed in one branch, you were a Scientist, and thus could be prevailed upon to be asked and answer all sorts of questions)

(the time Cecilia asked her how Khoshekh, who was a male cat, could give birth, she blanched, went home to scan as much as she could from various veterinary textbooks as she could access through her university's online library, and then proceeded to bullshit Cecilia until the cows came home)

But yes. Even in their blankness, she could still tell, somehow, when Cecilia was looking to the left or to the right. From the level of the glow in her eyes, she could tell when Cecilia was happy (light purple), or sad (deep violet) or furious (red, usually in regards to Steve Carlsburg).

\------

To be fair, she paid more attention to the tentacles after their third date, when Cecilia invited her into her apartment.


	11. Mirror

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To the two people who gave me headcanons: I will get to the, soon! Life got crazy.
> 
> However, i was on the kinkmeme and saw the prompt below and then this happened...
> 
>  
> 
> "Ever since the events of the sandstorm, Cecil only has a 50% chance of seeing himself when he looks in the mirror. The other 50% of the time, he sees Kevin."

Half of the time when he wiped the steam from the mirror in the morning he saw himself, as was normal

(Though the wallpaper behind him continuously changed, as was also normal because duh)

Ever since the sandstorm the other half of the time he saw....him.

Wipe away steam to see pitch black eyes, and a mouth with a bit of viscera peeking out half the time, as if Kevin had just eaten.

He knew his double was named Kevin. He wasn't sure how he knew but it was a surety he felt deep to his bones.

Wipe away steam to see the wall behind him covered in blood, occasional splatters of brain and bone smeared across the flower bedecked surface.

Kevin didn't talk to him; he sure as hell didn't seem to hear anything Cecil yelled at him the first few times he saw him.

Wipe away steam to see Kevin occasionally wearing someone's scalp like it was a toupee, the blood dribbling down his cheek and a tounge darting out to lick it off.

(The hair look liked Carlos' hair)

(Cecil broke the mirror that morning)

It was a minor relief that Kevin didn't, ugh, 'mirror' his actions. His routine was as normal and dull as Cecil's, which was somehow even more unnerving.

Wipe away the steam to see Kevin just staring, intently.

He wasn't sure why this happened, if Kevin saw Cecil as he saw Cecil.

He knew he'd find out one day.

(You will die one day, his mother said, and it will be a mirror that kills you.)


	12. Shadowed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "When Cecil gets upset - really, utterly, helplessly upset - his eyes will turn pitch black like a demon’s and the shadows will gather around him like tentacles; when this happens, he can’t control what he’s doing."
> 
> Er, I also genderbent it. :)

True, Carla fell down while she was in the cave collecting samples and broke her phone, but all she hurt was her dignity, thankfully.

Still, she wasn’t expecting an hour later to come out of the cave to find not only her whole team gawping at her, but members of the Secret Police, a hooded figure, and, holy shit City Councilpeople (complete with-ew-soft meat crowns).

She looked at them, a bag of rocks in her hand, and finally asked, “er, what’s going on?”

Everyone started babbling at once, which considering that the City Council spoke in Enochian and Archaic Spanish only, made it even more confusing.

"We thought you were dead!" her team biologist Sandy finally blurted out.

Carla raised an eyebrow. “Come on, I know it’s Night Vale-no offence” she said as an aside to the hooded figure next to her who gravely nodded, “but seriously, it was only an hour I was down there. I’m sorry I didn’t call but my phone broke.”

Another wave of babbling, from which Carla got the take home that there had been a sound like a rockfall in the cave, and for whatever reason, no one could actually get in to see what had happened and it had been seven hours-oh shit seven hours.

"Where’s Cecily? Has anyone said anything to her?"

Everyone looked awkwardly at each other for a second. “Actually,” a balaclava’d policeperson spoke up, “Er, we thought you were probably dead so we went ahead and called the station and-“

He was speaking to empty air though because Carla had dashed off to her truck and was currently speeding off back to town.

——-

Dead.

The word rang out in her mind, constantly repeating.

Carla. Dead. carla. dead. carlaisdead.

No asshole Tracker this time, no board certified Doctor/bowling alley owner.

Just Carla (dead), her body lying crushed (dead) in one of the caves outside of town, the spark, her mind (dead) having been snuffed from what sounded like a rockfall according to her team outside.

They should have been in there, helping Carla

(and Intern Lia, who was stuck giving Cecily the news noticed black starting to creep across the whites of Cecily’s eyes, and she followed station procedure in instances like these, which was to run like hell).

Carla shouldn’t have to had die alone.

(and the shadows of the objects in her office, in the whole building, slithered towards her and curled around her, weaving in and out of her limbs and around her torso, offering comfort)

Carla should have had help

(unthinking, she rose from her chair and drifted towards the exit, the shadows bearing her along)

Cecily should have been there.

(and she threw her head back, wreathed in shadow Medusa like, and screamed)

—-

at the cave, Carla’s team all fell to the dirt, ears bleeding, as a Sound echoed across the desert.

The locals looked at each other. It was worst than they thought

—-

She tread lightly through Night Vale, yet each step was like that of an elephant, or a jackhammer, shaking the earth to its core.

Hooded figures tried to approach her, to whisk her away, but a flick of her hand and they were devoured by the hungry shadows that continually flocked to her.

Guns were fired, but bullets really had no effect on someone who was intangible as steam or the shadow that kept growing in her wake.

The Glow Cloud blocked her path

She walked through it, and the Glow Cloud followed her, chucking dead animals left and right, and occasionally snatching up any hooded figures who tried to take Cecily down.

She didn’t noticed any of this, notice the shadows or the Glow Cloud or the nails that were now talons, the third eye that usually was closed now wide open, the blood spilling from all of her eyes

All she could think of was Carla.

(Night Vale looked like a drawing now, devoid of all its shadow)

Carla, crushed.

(And the Man in the Tan Jacket met with the Erikas at the Ralphs and agreed to get Carla to town faster because it was obvious reality couldn’t take much more of Cecily in her current state)

Carla, dead.

(she fell to her knees, and started screaming again, and the earth began to shake even more, and crevasses began to open up, and the first tendrils of the Beings below began to creep slowly up and

"Cecily! Cecily, please, stop!"

———-

One minute she was driving like a bat out of hell down Highway 800 and the next minute there was a man in a tan jacket next to her and it was really a sign of how freaked out she was that she didn’t even bat an eyelash at that.

She couldn’t recall, afterward, what he looked like, but she did very clearly remember him saying “You are needed, now” and there was a feeling like ‘plib’ and she was standing in front of Cecily and oh god, Cecily baby….

Her eyes were pitch, even the one that she rarely opened. Shadows surrounded her, and she was almost lost in the whirling black around her. Her clothes were torn and covered in blood and she was wailing and oh god oh god

"Cecily! Cecily, please, stop!" She ran up to her, heedless of what the shadows or the Glow Cloud might do, and tackled her to the ground, and hugged her for dear life.

"I’m here, I’m alive" Carla kept repeating, running her fingers through Cecily’s hair.

The shadows began to return to their proper places and the Glow Cloud went off to do its usual dead animal dropping

(waiting for when their Mistress would call again)

and her nails became just normal nails again and her extra eye closed

(until Cecily needed to pierce the veil again, breech the wall between life and death, and damn the consequences)

and her sobs became that, just sobs, as she clutched to Carla, and they both sat together in the middle of the street in front of the Library.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From this super awesome headcanon sent in by http://sociopath-in-a-trench-coat.tumblr.com/
> 
> Original Link: http://nightvaleheadcanons.tumblr.com/post/61041295351/when-cecil-gets-upset-really-utterly


	13. Antlers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From a request. Hope you don't mind the genderbend. :)

What Carla found more interesting than the simple fact that Cecily had antlers (and she knew she had been in Night Vale for awhile to think that), was that she had a different kind every two to three months, horns maturing and shedding at an accelerated rate.

(Four months into her stay Carla had asked a fellow biologist and friend in Oregon to send any books she had on antlered critters)

1\. Irish Elk

"You know Irish Elk are extinct right?" Carla had said after she and Cecily were done going through the big book on antlers that Martine had sent her.

Cecily looked quizzically at her, the spread fan shape of her antlers (and thank god for her sake that all of her antlers were scaled to her body size) framing her Afro like a halo.

"Dearest Carla, the Zoo has a small herd of Irish Elk. They’re next to the dodos and the unicorns."

Carla didn’t know which grabbed her attention more. “Cecy, do you think we could go to the zoo sometime?”

"Of course! Remind me to bring a zombie child home for bait when we get one in again at the station!"

"Um, I don’t think that’d be necessary…."

 

2\. Pudu

Carla wasn’t one for squealing or squeeing but oh. My. Fucking. God.

"Cecily please come out, you look adorable," she pleaded to the bathroom door, Cecily having locked herself in.

"I don’t WANT to look adorable, I NEED to look distinguished damnit!"

"Cecy baby, you’re on the radio. You were going to go in your pajamas today."

"The interns will see me!"

After ten minutes, Carla got her out of the bathroom, and glimpsed again the cute.

Cecily had the short horns of a pudu, which combined with her hair led to the points barely peeking out of her Afro.

Carla just wanted to gush all over her. Cecily on the other hand..

"Oh nooooooooooooo……." and ran back into the bathroom.

Carla looked at her watch. Cecily didn’t have to be at the station for three hours.

It was going to be a long afternoon.

 

3\. Sanbar Deer

Carla wondered often how much like regular antlers Cecily’s antlers were. Considering how fast they grew and shed, the changing kinds, and the occasional glow from them, there surely had to be other qualities that regular horns did not possess.

Right now, from her bleary, barely conscious position under the knife of Cecily’s doppelgänger, she added to her mental list that they were far stronger than regular antlers.

She knew this because Cecily had just burst into the room, breaking the door with her long horns, covered in blood, an organ or two speared on them.

She was still technically the same height, shorter than Carla without her Sanbar horns, but the shadows that swirled around her hinted of greater heights and far more terrible forms kept barely at bay by an iron will. Her eyes had turned pitch black, and blood was flowing from them.

"Get. Away. From her. " Cecily said in the Voice, and even though it wasn’t aimed at her, it still echoed in Carla’s bones, her soul. When Cecily used the Voice, no one or nothing could refuse her.

(If she wanted, she could heal any wound, stop any war, raise the dead with her Voice. But Cecily was rather fond of reality)

However, Kelsey just smiled and said “Hello twin!” and rushed at Cecily horns down.

As the epic clash began, Carla deliriously noted that her girlfiend was exhibiting some very deer like attributes to go with the horns, before passing out.

4\. Chital Deer

Cecily’s head was in her lap, and her horns, half grown in, looked so soft and fuzzy that Carla started to play with them, rubbing her fingers absentmindedly against them.

She was so wrapped up in the book that she was reading that she didn’t notice that she was rubbing a little harder than she meant or the little gasps from Cecily until a hand pulled her book away and she was face to face with a very flustered girlfriend.

"Bed. Now. Please," Cecily managed to get out and ohhhh….

Well. That was good to know for future reference.

As Cecily dragged her to her bedroom, Carla saw much testing and experimentation in the future.

5\. Moose

It really shouldn’t have bothered her.

Considering that Carla was going on her second year in Night Vale, and not only did her girlfriend have fucking antlers, but in the past week the jello in her fridge achieved sentience, one of the Erikas had stopped her at Ralph’s to intone “take care of the Double Crowned Woman,” and each one of Hiram McDaniels’ heads had a different mayoral platform they laid out at his town hall meeting….yes, it should not have bothered her.

But for some reason, the fact that Cecily would use her horns as a handy laundry drying rack just really tripped her out okay?

Especially when she was washing underwear, and Carla came home to see Cecily watching tv and having ten pairs of undies and two bras dangling from her head and now she needed a lie down


	14. Sunscreen

"You live in a desert…"

"OUCH! yes, and?"

Carla squirted more aloe vera in her hand and went back to slathering her girlfriend’s bright cherry red back in lotion.

She went on. “Desert….lots of sun, lots of chance for the sun’s rays to refract off the sand and make it even more bright and hot outside…”

Cecily turned to look at Cecily, and then turned back with an “owowowowowowow”. She spoke into the pillow.

"Yes, I know, I’ve lived here my whole life wonderful Carla."

Carla tried to squirt out more aloe vera, realized the bottle was empty, and moved on to bottle three.

"So why on earth don’t you put on some sunscreen?"

Cecily snorted. “Because it attracts sea-bears. Duh.”

Carla paused in her administrations.

She had a brain break.

Then she went on. “Okay, but have you ever thought about a big, floppy hat? I’m surprised you don’t own one….”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From this prompt on tumblr
> 
> timelordsandkittens said: Easily-sunburnt Cecil and Carlos helping him with sunscreen/sunburn lotion?


End file.
